Homecoming
by python862
Summary: Krionoso has returned to his home, with one thing in mind; healing. Set after chapter 17 of King's Crest. Could be considered a prologue for TbF. Oneshot.


A/N: Just a little oneshot following Krionoso that'll hopefully hold you over until Trial by Fire. Explains what happened to him after chapter seventeen of King's Crest. Just a bit of fluff - not too much on that storyline thing, to protect the integrity of TbF. Enjoy!

**Homecoming**

The city of Dalaran sat solemnly near the shore of Lordamere Lake, sharing a border with the mountains of Alterac. The snowy foothills of the mountains rose high above even the Spiral, and if one looked high enough, could barely make out the peaks. Night had fallen around the ever-distant summits, and was beginning to encroach into the landscape with every minute. Krionoso, however, paid no heed to the spires, but rather the sharp pain that exploded through him at every breath. What stung him the most was the fact that he failed to protect his hold over that wretched king Wrynn. His hands trembled as he tried pulling himself from the ground, barely able to as his ribcage protested with all of its force. That last smack with Garret's hammer was enough to almost down a kodo.

Krionoso scowled as he began walking toward the purple shield of Dalaran. He hesitated momentarily before walking straight through it. The illusion wasn't disturbed as he passed, not even rippling. Krionoso took a look at his age-ruined home. Nearly all of the buildings were crumbling or beginning to crumble. The fountain had run dry years ago, and was now a mere shadow of its once-proud stature. Not even the statue at the center was safe. Vandals from inside the city had thought it a good idea to take the head off for a prize, and even now the decapitated battlemage stood ready to cast whatever devastating spell he fancied. Wincing with pain, Krionoso kept walking through the deserted streets. The cobblestones were old and decrepit, falling apart from even the slightest amount of weight. All of the citizens were at home, probably sleeping.

Krionoso sighed. When he was a young boy, the city had been so great and majestic. The inhabitants were friendly, the food was good, and the library was a grand place to spend a day. Those days were long gone, and the library barely stood, falling down under the weight of its own structure. Krionoso stalked, limping, down the main street and halted at one of the houses - which itself was leaning. Krionoso recognized this place. The town healer.

Entering the building through the front door, he was greeted by the smell of dust, and lots of it. The bleak grey of it permeated every crevice of the house, settling on tables, books, the floor, and anywhere else it could reach. Sitting in a chair on the far side of the main room, an old woman addressed Krionoso.

"Welcome back, young man. It's been such a long time since I've seen your face in this town. I wonder, where have you been?" she asked, leaning foward slightly, her face catching the light filtering from three small candles on the table.

Krionoso smiled. "I've been away. I just decided I'd drop back in and see you for old times' sake... and because I've got this horrible pain," he explained, settling on the chair across from the elder woman.

The healer's eyes sagged, and her face was plagued by wrinkles. Her mouth was upturned in a smile, and that created even more creases. "You always did play rough," she said, scolding with a friendly tone. "Tell me where it hurts."

When Krionoso pulled off his robes and undershirt, the woman hissed.

"You said 'horrible pain'. You didn't mention that your ribcage has been nearly shattered and your sternum is dislocated."

Krionoso looked at the woman, confused. "You can tell that just by looking at me?"

"I'm not looking _at_ you, I'm looking _in_ you. And judging by the bruise developing, I'd say you were hit by a blunt object. A large hammer, perhaps," the woman explained, her eyes closed. Krionoso didn't understand the priesthood, and didn't claim to, but maybe this healer had more to her than originally thought.

The healer sighed. "I can try and recorrect some of this, but I don't promise much. And, even if I _can_ put all your bones straight, it will still pain you immensely; you'll need to be put to bed for a month before you can move or fight properly."

Krionoso looked at the small, old priestess with a shocked expression. How had she known about his intention to fight?

"The signs are all over, young lad. I can read them like a book. Now, lie down on the bed upstairs. I shall be with you shortly."

Krionoso smiled to himself. Priests were always messing in people's minds. Why should she have been any different. He decided it didn't matter. As long as she was able to mostly heal him, he would be content. He trudged, with difficulty, up the stairs and into the room. The door was already open, as if someone had expected him. Once more, the priestess surprised him by her awareness.

Shuffling to the bed, Krionoso gingerly lied down. He gasped as he did; the pain seemingly tried to burst its way through his now-nearly-boneless chest. Gritting his teeth, he lied down the rest of the way. Once he was on the bed, the pain was increased from a generous throbbing to a mind-bending concussive blast caused by each heartbeat. The pain stretched the minutes, and Krionoso was left wondering, _'What is she doing?'_

Soon, though, the woman appeared in the doorway and made her way to a bedside stool. Rolling up her sleeves, she said, "Bear with me a moment. The Light doesn't come as quickly to old women, especially when all of the young'uns are off, tackling whatever life throws at them." She chuckled softly and closed her eyes once again.

When she opened them again, her hands were enveloped by the golden Light. She held her palms over Krionoso's chest, beginning to chant slowly.

"Be still. This will hurt."

At first, Krionoso wondered what the woman meant by it, but after a few moments, he was supplied with an answer. His chest was on fire, as the bones relocated themselves beneath his skin and muscle. He clenched his teeth tightly, and grasped the bed linens until his hands began to turn white.

"My help won't be enough if you completely cut off circulation to your hands. Relax. This will be over soon," the woman said.

In the process of weaving her magic, she had for a third time closed her eyes, and allowed the Light to guide her hands. Within another few moments, the pain faded to a dull throbbing once more. Krionoso released his death-grip on the sheets; he had difficulty with this operation, due to a cramp that had developed in his fevered search for relief from the pain. He panted, feeling as if he had just run from Stormwind to Ironforge without stopping for rest. The woman also panted, and the Light pulsed briefly before fading from existence.

After a few seconds of rest, the woman finally said, "Stay in bed. Your wounds are mostly healed, but you need time to rest the new structure, or it won't set properly. I will fetch you some food."

Krionoso sighed, not even thinking about leaving the sanctuary. The priestess walked slowly from the room, and stepped down the stairs. While she returned to the kitchen, Krionoso simply thought. He thought of what was to be next for him. The king was sure to send Simonee and his group to find and kill him, but the question was, _when_? How long would it take for whoever remained alive to find him here in Dalaran, a sitting duck? His only solace from those burning questions was the soon-to-be invasion. Even if Stormwind held it's own - which it probably would; the king had most likely sent for reinforcements from Ironforge - it would at least buy him time to recover and either flee or wait for his impending doom.

The woman appeared in the doorway, holding a tray of food and scowling. "I sensed your mind was clouded, but I thought it might have been from the pain. Now I know that you were withholding details. You are not welcome here. As soon as your injury has had time to fully heal, I expect you out of here. It is a wonder I don't kill you myself, traitor."

Krionoso looked at the priestess in mild surprise. He understood her position, and even he himself didn't like it. Sighing, he averted his gaze.

"I understand. Thank you for your generosity anyway," he said, in a quiet voice. The woman set the tray on his lap and left without another word. Krionoso was left, wondering, _'How many things must remind me?'_

He ate wordlessly, afterward setting his tray on a small table that was propped up next to the bed. He attempted to go to sleep, but found himself unable to, troubled by his own thoughts.


End file.
